I usually stop at the library on my way home two or three times a week. If I don’t have time to browse, I’ll put my returned books in the drop box.

One day, I get a notification that I owe $315 for damaged books. What the expletive? I’ve always been careful with books!

It turns out that someone shoved a bunch of BBQ chicken containers into the drop box along with their books, and the sticky sauce splattered all over the entire series of graphic novels I had just returned. 

However! I used to work for the library, and I know how to clean off everything from cocaine to crayon. After convincing the librarian to let me clean up the books, and with the gentle application of (very lightly!) damp cloths with vinegar, diluted dish soap, and a few other things, I was able to present clean books to the librarian and save myself a few hundred dollars.

I have a part-time job in a library re-shelving books. One afternoon, a teenage girl approaches me.

Girl: “Hi. I’m looking to do a report on Doobie Keebler. I can’t find any articles or books on him even though I saw something about him on TV a long time ago. 

Me: “…Doobie Keebler?”

Girl: “Yes.”

I go over to a nearby computer.

Girl: “I tried looking on that already, but I didn’t find anything.”

Me: “Are you positive this wasn’t a fictitious character?”

Girl: “Yeah! It was like a documentary, actually.”

I try different variations of spellings but come up empty-handed.

Me: “What was the significance of him?”

Girl: “He hijacked an airplane by threatening to blow it up if he didn’t get $100,000, and then he parachuted out of the plane with the money, never to be seen ever again.”

Me: “That’s D.B. Cooper! And yes, there are plenty of books on him, considering the fact that the case has stumped the FBI for over forty years! 

We had a good laugh, and I was able to help her find what she needed afterward.

I’m getting ready to open the library for the day, working at the circulation desk. I listen to our voicemails. One was left at 5:30 am.

Patron: “Hi. I have three things out that I’m going to return tomorrow or the day after. Please call me back at [number] to let me know what time works best to return them. It’s very important to me that you confirm that you got this message and know that I’m going to return these items as soon as possible.”

I locate the patron’s account and confirm that there are no overdue items or other things I want to notify them of. Everything’s good. The items aren’t due for more than a week, and they have no active requests or waitlists.

I call around 9:45 am and leave a voicemail of my own.

Me: “I’m calling from the library, returning your message. You can return items at the circulation desk any time that we’re open, or twenty-four-seven in the outdoor returns box in front of the main entrance. It’s bright blue and says ‘Returns’ on it. We empty it and check in the items first thing every morning, so feel free to drop off your books on whatever schedule is best for you.”

A few hours go by. I do my other duties, including calling back the other people who left voicemails and leaving messages letting people know about requested items arriving. The phone rings at the circulation desk.

Me: “Thanks for calling the library. This is—”

Caller: “I saw there was a voicemail left by this number. What was it about?”

Me: “Um, well, it could be a few things… Wait, is this [Patron]?”

Caller: “Yeah, why did you call me?”

Me: “We were just letting you know that we got your message from earlier this morning and that there’s no need to rush returning your books, but you can drop them off whenever you want.”

Caller: “Oh, well, I don’t know why you called so early; I was sleeping. And I never answer the phone to unfamiliar numbers.”

Me: “That’s fine. That’s why I left the message.”

Caller: “Well, I’m going to return those books as soon as I can. Probably in four or five days. I haven’t finished them yet, so I wish you wouldn’t rush me.”

Me: “You can return them any time on or before the due date, which is [twelve days away], and you don’t even need to come when we’re open. The drop box is there for overnight returns or if you’re in a hurry. Have a great day!”

She returned the books the next day. A few days later, she called and asked why we’d left a voicemail about returning books because she had already done that!

Related:
Voicemail Fail, Part 9
Voicemail Fail, Part 8
Voicemail Fail, Part 7
Voicemail Fail, Part 6
Voicemail Fail, Part 5

A graduate student is checking out some books.

Me: “It looks like you have a late return charge.”

Graduate Student: “That’s wrong. I always return my books before they’re due.”

Me: “Okay, well, we can file paperwork for missing books. You can check back with us to see if we’ve found it. Otherwise, we’ll have to contact you after two weeks with what your options will be, which is usually to pay or replace the item.”

Graduate Student: “Well, that won’t happen since I’ve returned them.”

Me: “In the meantime, if you could double-check your home, office, car, or anywhere you would have used the item just in case?”

She leaves but kept calling and emailing saying she is ABSOLUTELY 100% CERTAIN she has returned the missing item. She gets pretty livid and rude, too.

A couple of weeks later, one of my coworkers happens to be helping out at our front desk and recognizes the grad student walking by and trying to drop a book off at our return slot. If we’re at the front desk, a lot of times, we’ll let people know that they can just hand the items to us rather than drop them in the return slot because it’s easier for us.

The student starts acting shifty.

Graduate Student: “I’d rather drop it in the return slot. It’s no big deal.”

It turns out, the student found the book at home and tried to stealthily return it hoping that we wouldn’t recognize her and remember all the crap she put everyone through. Of course, she didn’t apologize to anyone, either.

CONTENT WARNING: Sexual Language

Our library is being represented at our city pride parade. We have a kiosk at the pride celebration site and we’re offering library memberships and card gained with a simple form plus advertising the fact that we host drag queen reading hours at a time when the government is coming down hard on these for some reason.

As is sadly expected with any pride event, there are the groups of counter-protesters who are going around being offended that it’s legal for this community to be happy. One such group approaches our kiosk, and their leader speaks up.

I try not to get too political, but it should be noted that this leader is a woman wearing a MAGA pin on her jacket.

Protester: “Shame on you! I can’t believe my tax money is paying for you to promote this s***!”

Me: “Well, I’m a volunteer so you’re not paying me at all, really.”

Protestor: “You’re poisoning the minds of our children with this! How am I supposed to explain to my child why this is allowed to happen?”

Me: “I don’t know, how did you tell your child it was allowed for the president to grab them by the p*ssy?”

Protestor: “That… that’s not gay!”

Me: “Got it. So non-consensual sexual abuse is okay because it’s heterosexual? Reading age-appropriate books to children in drag is not okay because… the reader is homosexual? Ma’am, you can just say “because I’m a homophobic bigot” and save yourself using all those words.”

Protestor: “Shame on all of you! You’re all gonna burn in Hell!”

The group of protestors (all of them had the same hairstyle too!) turn away to go try to ruin someone else’s day.